Dispatch #46 - Curated by our Contributing Editors
Read a selection of articles handpicked by our contributing editors from past Dispatches.
Hello and welcome to Translator’s year-end Dispatch, where we look back at a year of reporting from beyond the Anglosphere.
Thank you for being with us on the Translator journey. It’s extraordinary to imagine that we started sending out summaries in February, that our first paper magazine came out in June and our second in November.
Give your friends and family the gift of language and learning about the world beyond the Anglosphere this holiday season!
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The year in numbers
Since February:
We have sent out 45 Dispatches – for free
We have summarised over 150 articles from over 30 languages from Amharic and Arabic to Turkish and Zulu, from Turkish and Romanian. (The top languages were Italian, Portuguese, Arabic, Spanish and French).
We’ve worked with journalists, writers and translators from around the world
Published our first Read Between the Lines online (by Sanam Maher)
And, our first Guest Edited Dispatch (by Jamie Mackay)
For our final Dispatch of the year, we’re sharing a second selection of previous summaries of articles which resonated with our contributing editors from across the year. You’ll find their selections below, each followed by a short reflection on why these stories remain urgent and important as the year comes to a close.
We have much more in store for you next year, so follow us here or on Instagram to find out more.
P.S.: In the meantime, tell us what you like and dislike, themes you’d like to see explored from the perspective of different linguistic media landscapes. And, as ever, feel free to recommend specific pieces we should summarise for our Dispatches, or translate in full for the magazine.
Here’s what we’re looking for and how to let us know.
For our first Contributing Editor’s selection, a Russian article that caught the eye of Theo Merz, and which we summarised back in Dispatch 39 in November.
Kadyrov’s battle for Russia’s 500-Ruble note
As Russia redesigns its currency, Chechnya’s Ramzan Kadyrov wages a symbolic war for visibility
When the independent Russian outlet Radio Svoboda published journalist Artem Radygin’s report on the Russian Central Bank’s search for a picture to go on its new 500-Ruble note, what emerged was more than a story about the aesthetics currency design.
It was a story about power, the politics of image in contemporary Russia, and the cracks in the façade of unity between the Kremlin, popular Russian nationalism (encouraged and instrumentalised by the Kremlin in the context of its war of aggression in Ukraine, but whose online voices can sometimes be stern critics of how the war has been run), and Chechnya’s autocratic leader Ramzan Kadyrov (a declarative ultraloyalist to Vladimir Putin who, at the same time, runs Chechnya as his private fiefdom).
[There’s a long story here: in the 1990s and 2000s Russia fought a brutal series of wars in Chechnya to prevent it from seceding from the Russian Federation; these wars were intimately intertwined with the rise of Putin to power, and fundamental to the position of Kadyrov, with a great deal of murkiness in between.]
On 1 October 2025, the Central Bank of Russia launched an online vote to select the landmarks to appear on its new banknote, inviting the public to choose symbols representing the North Caucasus Federal District (of which Chechnya is one part). Among the options on offer were Mount Elbrus (the highest mountain in the Caucasus range), Derbent Fortress and Grozny City, a shimmering skyscraper complex built by Kadyrov as a monument to his rule and “the rebirth of Chechnya”.
Three days later, Kadyrov took to Telegram to mobilise votes for Grozny City, calling it a “symbol of victory over international terrorism” and offering iPhone 17s as inducements for people to vote (multiple times) in support of his preference. His campaign ignited an online firestorm. Russian nationalist pro-war bloggers accused him of manipulating votes, or even that trying to place Grozny City on the 500-ruble note amounted to “anti-Russian sabotage”. Even members of parliament joined the backlash, promoting rival symbols and accusing the Chechen leader of overreach.
By 10 October, the Central Bank abruptly cancelled the vote, citing “technical manipulation”. But as Radygin reports, this was no simple case of ballot tampering. It revealed how deeply Kadyrov’s cult of personality has entangled itself with the Russian state’s symbolic order.
For Kadyrov, glitzy Grozny City represents not just reconstruction, but personal vindication and the glowing proof of his transformation from warlord to state loyalist. Yet as Chechen human rights activist Musa Lomaev tells Radio Svoboda, this triumphal image conceals a harsher reality. Ordinary Chechens don’t see freedom in Grozny City and still live with fear, kidnapping and repression.
Radygin’s piece situates this vanity struggle within Russia’s broader authoritarian drift. As Kirill Martynov, editor-in-chief of the exiled Russian newspaper Novaya Gazeta Europe, observes, displaying Kadyrov’s power on a Russian banknote would be entirely fitting for today’s war-torn, repressive Russia. He further notes that methods once considered particular to Chechnya such as intimidation, enforced loyalty, the fusion of religion and power, are now common across the Russian Federation. Has Chechnya been Russified, or has Russia rather taken on the increasingly overt characteristics of Chechnya’s political economy?
The controversy has also unfolded amid rumours of Kadyrov’s ill health and waning political influence. His public feud with General Vladimir Shamanov, who condemned Chechnya’s move to rename Russian-settled villages, has further exposed the tensions within the Kremlin’s hierarchy in relationship to Chechnya. Kadyrov’s response – calling Shamanov a “hyena”, for example, and threatening lawsuits – seem less like strength than desperation. As Martynov suggests, Kadyrov’s fixation on the banknote is, ultimately, a struggle for relevance.
The battle over the banknote can be seen as a mirror of Russia’s political decay and an authoritarian regime’s search to remain visible.
Theo Merz on the selection:
It seems wrong to choose an end-of-year favourite of the Translator Magazine’s Dispatches. I don’t mean that it’s like choosing between our children, but rather that the joy of the newsletter is in the variety and the curation: in a single week we’re hearing about a workers’ allotment in Paris, an endangered dialect in Croatia, and a stock-market fraud in Vietnam (for example).
If I had to pick just one, though, it would be the Dispatch about Russia’s redesign of its 500-rouble note. The original story was published by Radio Svoboda in October, and it went well beyond the aesthetics of currency design. It was, as Translator noted in its summary, “a story about power, the politics of image in contemporary Russia, and the cracks in the façade of unity between the Kremlin, popular Russian nationalism… and Chechnya’s autocratic leader Ramzan Kadyrov.” It was brilliant to see this unusual, detail-focused approach to writing about Russia being brought to a wider audience through the Substack.
Original article ‘500 извинений’ by Artem Radygin was published in Russian by Radio Svoboda on 13 October 2025.
It is available here.
Radio Svoboda is the Russian-language service of Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty (RFE/RL), known for its independent journalism and critical coverage of state corruption and repression across Russia and Eastern Europe.
Summary by ZN
Our second Contributing Editor’s selection is chosen by Isabel Jacobs and is the summary of a Polish article from Dispatch 33 in September
Workers of all nations, relax!
Аn essay explores how 20th-century socialism brought tourism to the masses in Eastern and Central Europe.
Leisure tourism began as a bourgeois pastime. But over the late 19th and early 20th centuries, it was reclaimed by socialists and trade unions as a form of cultural education, solidarity and what today might be called “self-care”.
A fascinating essay by Przemysław Kmieciak in the leftist online journal Krytyka Polityczna is both a short cultural history and a manifesto: it presents workers’ tourism as a respite from the “stifling city” and as an instrument for shaping working-class identity.
Kmieciak locates the movement’s origins in the mass associations of Central Europe: in 1895, Viennese socialists founded the Naturfreunde (Friends of Nature), an early prototype for worker-led outdoor life. Similar organisations soon spread to Poland (at that time divided between empires ruled from Vienna, Moscow and Berlin).
By 1912, Polish socialists were organising workers’ outings into the Tatras Mountains and beyond; pamphlets proudly announced that “the times when culture was alien to the worker” had passed. The aim was overtly political: seeing the country, breathing mountain air, visiting museums and factories were not mere pleasures but part of “building consciousness” among labourers.
The movement’s rhetoric – and its practices – differed considerably from middle-class tourism. A workers’ outing was not about visiting vogueish sites; it was meant to be a social, educational experience. Publications of the period urged modest, sober travel (“no dancing, no gramophone”), argued for temperance, and celebrated shared labour on the road. Joint meal preparation was framed as emancipation for working-class housewives.
Kmieciak describes one such tour of a dozen Polish cyclists to Belgium and France in 1929. The small group was met with astonishing hospitality – in the city of Lens, a crowd of 3,000 people cheered them on, and local socialist officials toasted them with champagne. Moments like these showed how worker-to-worker solidarity across borders could turn a humble trip into an occasion of public recognition.
Another workers’ journey mentioned in the text is a 1930 river voyage to Chernivtsi, in what is now Ukraine. Travellers slept on straw, drank milk offered by villagers, and were hosted, when they arrived, by fellow socialists. This is travel as a series of communal encounters rather than tourist separateness.
Kmieciak’s brief history looks backwards. But it contains lessons for today as it explores the idea that rest, relaxation and discovery should not be privileges limited to a few, but an essential part of everyone’s life and development.
Isabel Jacobs on the selection:
I loved Przemysław Kmieciak’s article on socialist visions of mass tourism in Central and Eastern Europe, published on 7 June 2025 in Krytyka Polityczna (Dispatch #33). It’s totally fascinating how Kmieciak presents mass tourism under state socialism as a tool for shaping working-class identity, promoting workers’ emancipation and their health. It was also about building communities and spending time together. Holidays were an escape from the grind of city life and the factory. It made me think about today’s mass tourism and consumer capitalism: package holidays and cheap flights that also democratise leisure for working people, yet at enormous environmental cost.
Original article (“Z dusznego miasta na słoneczne szlaki. Rzecz o turystyce robotniczej”) by Przemysław Kmieciak was first published in Polish by Krytyka Polityczna on 7 June 2025.
It’s available here.
Krytyka Polityczna is a Polish leftist publication and activist network focusing on progressive politics and culture.
Summary by TM
Our third and final Contributing Editor’s selection is the choice of Odhran O’Donoghue back from Dispatch 3 in February.
Being a trans teenager in Taiwan
A Taiwanese reporter interviews transgender teenagers about the challenges they face from the medical system
Following the legalisation of gay marriage in 2019 – the first Asian country to do so – public discourse in Taiwan has continued to shift on LGBTQ+ issues, including improved awareness of young transgender people. The same year, 2019, saw Taiwan’s first transgender march. Taiwan’s flourishing cultural and political scene around LGBTQ+ issues as been documented in an excellent series of articles by Edric Huang, available here. Rights organisations such as TAPCPR have long campaigned to remove surgery as a requirement for individuals wanting to change their legal gender. They’ve recently celebrated a major legal victory.
But for transgender teenagers in particular, the situation remains tricky. In an article for The Reporter, journalist Hong Qinxuan interviews transgender teenagers to understand the continuing mismatch between legal norms, the health system and their hopes for the future.
Current Taiwanese law stipulates that the desired hormonal treatments necessary for changing gender are reserved for those over the age of 18 with full medical autonomy. The situation is more complicated for younger teenagers seeking gender-related medical care. Most hospitals will only see minors after they have received parental consent—one of the bigger hurdles—and undergone a strict psychological evaluation.
The Reporter interviews several teenagers about the medical and other challenges they face. One key takeaway is the diversity of lived experiences and challenges. “Every transgender person’s anxiety is different,” says Simon, a first-year high school student. “I don’t get anxious when I wear a skirt or have long hair… I just don’t like my body, voice and how society views my gender: why are they all different from what I think?”
Prevented from easily accessing the medical care they would like, some teenagers resort to alternative solutions found online. Weihao (a pseudonym) was fifteen when he first injected testosterone, bought from someone presenting themselves as a fitness coach (Weihao uses the term “bodybuilder”). The exchange took place at a bus station in Ximending (“10 thumb-sized bottles for 3,000 yuan in cash” notes The Reporter).
Seven years on, he is still using the privately sourced treatment. (An alternative is to go via Chinese pharmaceutical companies online.) But these medications aren’t without additional risks. An increased risk of blood clots and early onset of osteoporosis are two possible side-effects of hormonal treatments, says Xu Zhiyun, a child and adolescent psychiatrist who has opened a sought-after consultation clinic at Taiwan University Hospital’s Department of Psychiatry and seen over a hundred young transgender patients.
Nor is all hormonal medicine is the same. Trans women don’t need to rely on injections, but can rather take pills, much easier to source online. The Reporter speaks to Wan Cake who bought 300 pills for 500 yuan. She didn’t notice much physical change initially, but she did notice something else: empowerment. “Taking the medicine has a psychological effect. When you take the medicine, you feel ‘I’m finally starting’” When she couldn’t afford a steady long-term supply, Wan had to resort to less regular means of obtaining the medication – and adjust her doses.
Trans woman Jinger’s life took a more radical path. Growing up in China, Jinger came to her transgender identity as a pre-teen, initially stealing money from home to secure blood pressure medicine which has the side effect of suppressing testosterone production. The most obvious thing the medicine did, initially, was to reduce her acne. Her life spiralled out of control when her mother found out about and confiscated her medicine at the age of 13. Five years later, she resorted to extreme measures and removed her testicles herself in the bathroom of a rented house. She has since moved to Taiwan, cut off from her mother but staying in touch with her father.
At the time she is interviewed for the article, Jinger she is 19, dressed in gender-neutral clothing with pony-tail. She used to think about trying to talk in a higher pitch in order to sound more stereotypically female, she says. But “I’ve read enough feminist articles now to not force myself”. If she could turn back the clock, she sometimes wonders whether she would make the same choice of radical self-surgery. Though it’s hard to re-imagine herself into that time, she feels she would: “I wanted to do it from the bottom of my heart”.
December 2024. Jinger is on her way to a Christmas gathering of the local Taiwanese transgender community, showing her sense of humour by wearing a T-shirt with the words ‘Made in China’ in Gothic font. Much has changed for Jinger over the last years – she can be far more open about who she is.
Yet elements of this world remain underground. She shows The Reporter a small flask of oestrogen, made up by a Brazilian trans woman. It is only purchasable with crypto and disguised as skin oil.
Odhran O’Donoghue on the selection:
I was compelled by the summary of Hong Qinxuan's report about healthcare for transgender Taiwanese teenagers published in Dispatch #3. Amid a violent anti-trans backlash in the UK, whose architects often purport to be motivated by dubious claims of 'protecting children', it was refreshing to read something in which the voices of actual trans young people were centred. This focus enabled the multiplicity of trans experiences to shine through, as well as highlighting how exclusion from access to gender-affirming care is the real threat to young people's wellbeing.
Original article (“年輕跨性別世代素描：性別認同覺察提早，在尋醫與私藥間找出路”) by by Hong Qinxuan (洪琴宣) was first published in Chinese by The Reporter on 19 January 2025.
It’s available here.
The Reporter (報導者) is an independent non-profit news organisation in Taiwan.
That’s all for now – we hope you’ve enjoyed the read. Keep an eye out for our next Dispatch of summaries this time next week!
The Translator team